


Reckless

by callmecirce



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce
Summary: The gang has started University, and while things are looking up for Marinette, they've gotten rough for Adrien. He withdraws from his friends and becomes reckless in his personal life. Chat Noir has become subdued and reserved, but Ladybug doesn't notice until he tells her that he might give up his cat ears. I do not own the concept or the characters.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I had another idea and this one has been absolutely demanding my attention. It's darker than the other, and is written in an entirely different vein. The two stories are unrelated, beyond the shared source material. And yes, Adrien is kind of an idiot in this one. Depression doesn't lend itself to rational thought. And apologies in advance-it's very long and I wasn't shy with the foul language. Eh, sorry, not sorry. Consider yourself warned. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS NOW FAN ART!! EEEK!!! Complements of the fabulous **seasonofthegeek** :  
> https://seasonofthegeek.tumblr.com/post/162104590451/i-wanted-to-do-a-quick-doodle-of-angry-driving

Plagg watched as Adrien wove in and out of traffic with precision, his music blaring and the city little more than a blur as it flashed by the windows. Finally leaving the congestion of the city behind, Adrien hit the accelerator and shifted more aggressively than necessary. His speedometer kept climbing well past what was safe, but he didn't notice or care. He just shifted again and kept going until the whine of the engine told him that he was pushing it too far.

Given that he was behind the wheel of a late model Audi R8, this was saying something. He eased his foot off of the gas, and let his speed drop.

* * *

Ladybug watched in confusion as the gunmetal grey Audi sped away from the city. She'd recognized Adrien's car, sitting in traffic, while out on patrol, and had followed him on a whim. He'd been distant recently, and more often than not had declined invitations to hang out with his friends, even Nino. She knew she should respect his privacy, but curiosity and concern had won out. Now, she had more questions than answers. Where the hell was he going?

She idly swung her yoyo on its cord, as she considered waiting for him. There wasn't much to consider. Unless she was willing to sit there all night, and hope that he would come back the same way he'd left—which she wasn't—there was nothing for her to do but to complete her patrol and head home.

And so she did.

* * *

Adrien had learned to drive at age 16, at his father's behest. It had surprised him, at the time, that his father would want him to learn such a thing. Apparently, Gabriel's PR manager had sad that it would do the company's image good to see the face of its label driving himself around. And so, it became another skill that the elder Agreste had deemed necessary for his perfect, model son to acquire.

Plagg deemed Gabriel an idiot, but that was neither here nor there.

Adrien hadn't argued. He had embraced learning that new skill unreservedly and had become an adept driver quickly. Since then, he'd been driving himself around, albeit with either Nathalie or Gorilla in constant attendance. It had afforded him a measure of freedom and control that had been largely absent in most other areas of his life, and brought him a measure of joy as well.

When he turned 18, he could finally get on the road without his babysitters. By that time, Adrien's desire for freedom had well out-paced his acquisition of that commodity. When he moved out of his father's house 9 months later, the sudden freedom had been heady. Now, though, he felt restless and reckless in a way that not even his nightly outings as Chat Noir could disperse. More and more often, he sought the release of racing down the highway at breakneck speed, music blasting, and his whole mind focused on controlling the car.

It wasn't a permanent fix, not by a long shot. Plagg had pointed out, more than once, that Adrien would be better served to confront his demons, rather than running from them, and further, that his chosen pastime was likely to get someone killed—most likely, himself.

That did not phase Adrien as it should have.

It was not that he was youthfully, foolishly assured of his own invincibility. No; his time as Chat Noir had shown him that he was not. Nor was it that he wanted to die, and he most assuredly did not want to hurt anyone else. But such was his pain that he was numbed to those considerations, and so he drove.

Plagg sighed as the speedometer leveled off at a still-dangerous 200kmph, and tucked himself back in his secret pocket to wait for Adrien to head home.

* * *

The next morning, Marinette looked for Adrien in their shared algebra class, but he never showed. This was highly unusual. He'd been flaking on their group, but he hadn't once missed class, not even when he was sick. He'd arrived late, he'd been surly and taciturn, but he'd been there. That he missed the entire class made her worry spike.

Marinette packed her things away in her bag, and headed for a café on campus to study until time for her next class. Twenty minutes later, she threw down her pencil, grabbed her phone, and texted Nino.

_::M:: Hey, did Adrien come home last night?_

_::N:: Not that I saw. Why?_

_::M:: He wasn't in class._

_::N:: Shit, let me go look in his room._

_::N:: He's passed out in his bed._

_::N:: I can't believe I didn't hear him snoring._

_::M:: Haha, ok. Thanks._

_::N:: (thumbs up emoji)_

Marinette put her phone away with a sigh, and wondered again where he had gone the night before. At least she knew he was safe. She really ought to get back to studying, but she couldn't concentrate. Her gut told her that something was wrong, and the feeling had been growing for some time. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, but she'd learned to trust her gut.

* * *

Marinette was a few months into her first year at University. She had graduated from Lycée with honors, in spite of her frequent tardiness and absences. Her transcript and design portfolio together had garnered her a full scholarship to a prestigious arts program in Paris. That scholarship, coupled with the modest funds her parents had set aside for her, allowed her to focus on her studies without needing to manage a part-time job as well. Given that she already _had_ a job on the side, this was very good, indeed.

By some miracle, they'd all decided to attend the same school. So, even though they were all pursuing very different fields of study, they still saw each other regularly. They even had a few classes together. Alya was in her history class, and Adrien was in her algebra class.

It was going well so far, especially since it had actually become easier to balance being Ladybug with her personal life. She had more control over her time, and had fewer people to answer to. That might change soon, since the two girls were discussing the possibility of getting an apartment together for the next semester, and it would be even harder to hide her secret from Alya if they lived together. Still, it would be worth it to have her best friend so close. And who knew, it might even be worth it to let the blogger in on her secret—so long as it didn't end up on the Ladyblog.

Unfortunately, if it had gotten easier for Marinette, it had gotten harder for Adrien. She didn't know all of the details, but it seemed that Gabriel had continued trying to control every aspect of his son's life, even after Adrien attained his majority. It hadn't ended well, and now father and son were entirely estranged. Gabriel had replaced Adrien as the face of the Agreste line, and Adrien pretended that he had no father at all.

Marinette sighed again, and pulled out her sketchbook. If she couldn't study, at least she could draw.

* * *

In an apartment not far from campus, Adrien lay staring at his ceiling. Nino had tried to be quiet, but his surprised laugh had been enough to rouse the former model. Now he was awake, he was aware that he had missed class, and he was miserable.

In the grand scheme, one missed class was not the end of the world. It would not cost him the class, and it would not cost him his enrollment in the school. But his enrollment was vital; he could not afford to let school slide.

Literally. Adrien scrubbed his hands over his face, and thought back over the last several months despondently.

His father had not just cut him off; he had disowned him, because Adrien would no longer bow to his wishes.

Thankfully, his mother had left a trust fund for him, and he was wealthy enough in his own right that his father could not manipulate him financially.

And he had tried. That was the source of the rift.

Adrien had been completely blind-sided when he was approached by a lawyer shortly after his eighteenth birthday. Gabriel had known about the fund, of course, but had conveniently kept the knowledge from his son in the hopes that Adrien would continue to be dependent on his father. If the lawyer hadn't contacted him, he'd still be in the dark and jumping to his father's every whim.

There was a catch, though. Adrien had full access to the fund—which had grown significantly since his mother had created it for him, and it had been a huge sum to begin with—but his mother's will stipulated that he must attend some sort of post-secondary school after graduating from Lycée. Otherwise, he would not be able to use it until he turned 21. This was not itself a problem; he had intended to go to University regardless. But it stung that even his mother was trying to control him.

It stung even more that his father had attempted to block his admission to University, to block his access to the fund and render him dependent once more. Fortunately, the school's administration had flatly refused to be cowed by Gabriel Agreste. It wasn't often that someone dared to defy him. That Adrien was now doing so on a regular basis, and that the school had sided with Adrien over himself, had left Gabriel incandescent with rage. He had delivered an ultimatum: either fall in line, or leave.

Adrien left.

Gabriel retaliated, quickly and viciously. He disowned his son, and replaced him as the face of the Agreste label. He wasted no time in expunging every last image of Adrien from each and every marketing campaign, at great cost to the company. This served to make the rift very public indeed, and initially, he couldn't poke his nose outside without being inundated by the press.

Publicly, Adrien gave no indication that he cared, or even noticed what his father had done. Not even to his friends. Privately, the abandonment and betrayal _burned_. He wasn't a son to his father; he was barely even a person. He was a possession, a pawn.

It was all he had ever been.

* * *

It wasn't Ladybug's night to go on patrol, but she went anyway, in the hopes that the physical activity would help her to burn through some of her anxiety. She was too restless to stay home. After transforming, she tried to call Chat, so that they could meet up, but he didn't answer. Maybe he was running behind? With a shrug, she decided to get started. It wasn't a bad idea to run two separate patrols, anyway. They tried to avoid being predictable, and that was as good a way to mix things up as any.

She was about an hour into the patrol when she found Chat Noir. He'd clearly come out for his patrol, and found a bit of action along the way. There were two women trapped at the end of an alley, one of whom was lying awkwardly on the ground, with her head resting in the other's lap. In the middle of the alley, Chat was toying with two men. Chat could easily handle two normal men on his own; if they were still fighting, it was because Chat wanted to draw it out.

Ladybug dropped down into the alley near the women, her yoyo swinging. "Chat, stop playing with the mice!"

"Ladybug, oh _dieu merci_!"

She turned toward the voice, and found two tear-streaked faces regarding her expectantly. "Are you both ok?"

The one kneeling shook her head. "I'm ok, just a bit of a bump on the head. Amelie twisted her ankle when they knocked us down. She can't put any weight on it!"

Her voice had an edge of hysteria to it, and Ladybug responded immediately by kneeling in front of them and putting a comforting hand on each of them. "It's going to be ok, now. I am going to call this in to the police, and they will send an ambulance. Can you wait here a little longer?"

Both women nodded, and she gave them each a reassuring pat before standing and moving a few steps away to phone the police. She watched as Chat continued to tease the attackers, surprised that he was still drawing it out. It took only about a minute to notify the police. When she finished, she flicked out her yoyo, binding both men in its cord and yanking them both back into a jumbled heap at her feet.

"Sit, and stay," she told the two men. They ignored her, and began struggling against the cord. She shrugged, knowing that they would not escape, and looked at her partner. He stood a few feet away, his staff slung across his shoulders, his arms hooked over either end, and a fake smile on his handsome face. "What's with you tonight, Chat?"

"I was only keeping them busy until the cavalry arrived."

She frowned at him. "There was no cavalry coming, until I called them. And you had no way of knowing that I would show up tonight."

His only response was a shrug, and she let it go at that. She could hear sirens approaching, and knew that they would need to give their statements to the police before they could leave. They could talk after they finished cleaning up this mess.

* * *

They finished their patrol in silence. Ladybug wanted to wait until she could give him her full attention, and Chat was glad for the reprieve. They were not far from the _Arc de Triomphe_ when they finished. It was as good a place as any for a private conversation, so she swung her way to the top and sat with her feet hanging over the edge. She could see the Eiffel Tower to the south, lit up against the night sky.

Chat landed lightly behind her, but didn't sit. She heard him pace to the other end of the monument.

"Come sit with me, Chat." He didn't respond, and she turned to see that he was staring pensively out over the city, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Chat?"

Adrien heard her calling his name, and he sighed. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

She gaped at him, sure that she'd misheard. "I—I'm sorry?"

He finally turned, and met her eyes. "I can't be Chat Noir anymore."

Filled with sudden panic, she leapt to her feet and crossed to where he stood, her hands on her hips. "Why would you say that?"

"You saw me tonight. I was knocking those guys around just because I could. "

"So? You didn't really hurt either of them!"

"I wanted to," he said quietly. He had set her back on her heels again, he could see. But she rallied.

"No. I don't believe it. You wouldn't!" She laid a hand on his forearm, and squeezed gently. "That's not who you _are_."

"You have no idea who I am." He scoffed, shaking off her hand. "You never wanted to know."

Ladybug recoiled from the venom in his voice, startled and frightened by the change in his manner. For a moment, he reminded her of Adrien, who had been snarling like this for months. She gritted her teeth angrily, determined not to let another friend drift away from her. Especially not _this_ friend.

"I may not know your name, Chat Noir, but I know _you_. Don't do this. Don't push me away. We're a team, damnit!" She stamped her foot for emphasis, tears glistening in her eyes. "Whatever is going on, let me help!"

His face had softened as she spoke. He hadn't expected this reaction, hadn't expected her to object so vehemently. He stepped closer to her, invading her space. For once, she held her ground, rather than shying away. He was surprised again. As close as they'd become over the years, she'd always maintained a certain distance in their relationship. He'd all but given up on ever having more than this with his partner, but her proximity, her willingness to be so close to him, brought those old desires dangerously close to the surface.

He raised a hand to her cheek, and drew one leather-clad finger down her jaw. Her lips parted, and he saw anger give way to something else. Shaken, and suddenly afraid of what that something might be, he stepped away from her.

Marinette released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Chat, I don't know what's wrong, and I can't know unless you tell me." He said nothing, and she swung away from him in frustration. "I—I have this friend. We've known each other for a while now, and I thought that we were close. But then something happened, and he's…changed. He's pulling away from me, from all of us, and I am so worried about him! And there's nothing I can do, because he won't talk to me or anyone else. And now you—" She spun back to face him, then threw her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest. "Chat, you—I won't let you push me away. You mean too much to me."

He stood in shock for a few beats, stunned to feel her arms lashed tightly around him at a time when they hadn't just almost died. Then he wrapped his arms around her, and propped his cheek on the top of her head, trying to process what she'd said. He felt torn between jealousy of the nameless man who had so carelessly discarded her friendship, and a budding hope that perhaps she felt more for him than he thought. They stood like that, wrapped tightly around each other, for several minutes. Her warmth seeped into him, and it felt like a balm to his soul. "Ok," he finally said.

She pulled back without releasing him to look at his face, and he saw that a single tear had escaped to make its way down her cheek. "Ok?"

He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "Ok. I won't try to push you away."

She smiled. "Ok."

They sat quietly together on top of the monument for more than an hour, simply holding one another, and watching the stars track across the sky. She'd pulled him down next to her, and then had promptly scooted against him to lean her head on his shoulder. She'd surprised him again with her show of affection, but he was not complaining. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and clung to her until his Miraculous began to beep.

Marinette lifted her head sleepily, and smiled. "You're about to ding."

"Yeah. I should go."

"Me, too."

They stood, a little awkwardly, and readied their respective tools. "Hey, Chat? Can you patrol with me, tomorrow?"

"As you wish, milady." He grinned, feeling more like himself than he had in ages. "I'll see you at the Tower."

* * *

Marinette had been falling asleep on Chat's shoulder when his Miraculous had sent them both home, but now that she was tucked into her bed, she couldn't sleep.

' _Milady_ ,' he'd said.

When was the last time he'd called her that? When was the last time he'd called her Bugaboo, or used any of her other nicknames? Why had he stopped, and _how had she not noticed_?

With a low growl, she threw back the covers and strode from her bed to her desk. She clicked on the lamp there, and pulled out her sketchbook. Mostly, it was full of design ideas, but it was peppered here and there with drawings of the people in her life. Earlier that afternoon-nope, scratch that-yesterday afternoon, she had drawn Adrien. Now, she couldn't stop thinking about Chat. She began to sketch him at the bottom of the page, just as she had seen him that night: standing stiffly away from her, his eyes distant.

Had Chat steadily been slipping away from her, just like Adrien? She'd noticed that he had become more reserved around her, but if she thought about it at all, she'd chalked it up to his finally gaining some maturity. She wracked her brain, thinking back over the last several months, and tried to recall every detail of their interactions. Certainly, he'd never told her of any problems or difficulties. But-that, in and of itself, was telling.

Everyone has problems. And once upon a time, he'd shared his with her. When had he stopped? And how could she have possibly been so oblivious, that she completely missed his withdrawal?

She paused in her drawing to survey what she'd done, and on seeing again the sketch at the top of the page, she gasped. _Adrien_. She'd been so preoccupied with worrying over Adrien, whose woes were so very public, that she'd been blind to her partner's quiet misery.

"Oh, Chat," she whispered, drawing a finger over his likeness. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

The next morning, Adrien merged onto the highway, relieved to see that there was little traffic on the road. He hit the gas, and lost himself to driving. This time, though, he didn't feel compelled to push his engine to its limits. He eased back on the gas at around 150 kmph, and kept it there. He was still going too fast, for sure, but he just didn't feel quite so _driven_ today.

He laughed to himself at the pun, and Plagg poked his head out of his shirt. "Are you laughing?"

"Perhaps a bit."

"And you're going at a slightly less idiotic pace than you usually do."

"So I am."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain spotted Lady, would it?"

"It might."

"You're such a sap."

"Shut up, Plagg."

"I'm glad."

Adrien glanced his kwami with raised eyebrows.

"Eyes on the road!"

Adrien laughed again. "Relax, you scaredy cat."

"It's not me I'm worried about," the tiny cat muttered.

"Why Plagg, you're being downright sentimental this morning!"

"I am not! If you get yourself killed, where am I going to get my camembert?"

"Uh-huh. We'll go with that."

Plagg muttered something about 'snarky cats' and disappeared into Adrien's pocket again, but he was smiling.

* * *

Adrien returned to Paris a few hours later, feeling better than he had in weeks. Months, even. The drive had allowed him to clear his head, and after the first 30 minutes or so, he had slowed still further so that he was no longer driving fast enough to get himself arrested.

Whether she knew it or not, Ladybug had thrown him a life line last night, and he had chosen to grasp it in both clawed hands. _She cared_. He'd assumed, before, that her distance meant that she didn't care about him, beyond his role as her akuma-fighting partner. And so he'd withdrawn from her, as he had from everyone else in his life. None of them had fought for him, _but she had_. And it made him wonder, if he had been wrong about her, could he have been wrong about his other friends?

_'I have this friend...and I'm so worried about him...'_

Ladybug's words still rang in his ears. He didn't think much of this "friend", but he felt strangely indebted to him. After all, whoever he was, he'd inspired Ladybug to fight for _his_ friendship and so had given Adrien a second chance. He didn't intend to squander it.

He pulled smoothly into the parking garage beneath his apartment building, and headed up to his flat. Nino didn't have his own car, having chosen instead to rely on public transportation, so Adrien had no way of knowing whether his friend would be home until he got there. Still feeling buoyed, he let himself in and called up the hall to see if Nino was home, then continued on to the kitchen.

He'd just dropped his keys on the counter and started going through the mail when Nino joined him.

"Hey man, what's up?"

Adrien glanced up at Nino, and felt like scales had fallen from his eyes. His friend was regarding him with barely concealed concern, as well as a bit of trepidation. Merde _, how did I miss that_? He wondered to himself. He cleared his throat. "I went for a drive this morning. I just got back."

Ninos expression cleared a bit. "A drive? Where'd you go?"

There was an official-looking envelope with his name on it, and he started ripping it open. He shrugged. "Nowhere. I just...drove."

Nino nodded slowly, clearly not sure what to make of that.

"Maybe next time, I can take you with...me..." Adrien's words died as he read the letter in his hand, and then his hand began to shake.

"Adrien? You oka-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!" He exploded, shoving away from the counter.

"Whoa, dude, what just happened?"

"This!" Adrien waved the crumpled letter in front of him, and then stalked into their living room. "THIS is what fucking happened! That goddamn manipulative bastard!"

His father had frozen his accounts by contesting the legitimacy of his mother's legacy. Everything he had from her, which was _literally_ everything he had, was now tied up by the suit, and he would not have access to any of it until the matter could be settled in court.

One moment, he had been one of the wealthiest men in Paris.

The next, he had nothing.

He felt the blood drain from his face, and he sat heavily on the couch. He had _nothing_. How was he going to continue paying for school? How would he pay his share of the rent? How would he make his car payment? What would he _do_?

Nino watched as his best friend sat frozen on their couch for a moment, then gently pulled the letter from his limp fingers. After scanning its contents, he cursed almost as foully as Adrien had.

Adrien didn't so much as twitch.

His face grim, Nino pulled out his phone and texted the girls. His message was simple, and to the point.

N: Adrien 112. Get here.

* * *

Marinette and Alya had just finished their shared history class and were headed to the cafe for coffees, when both of their phones buzzed. They laughed at the coincidence, and stopped to check their messages.

"Shit! Mari-"

"I know, I got the same message." Marinette looked at Alya's worried face, and knew that the same concern was reflected on hers. "Let's go."

Marinette worried the entire way to the guys' flat. She fretted, imagining scenario after scenario, each of them worse than the last. Alya had texted back to let Nino know that they were en route, and to get more info, but Nino wouldn't say what had happened; only that Adrien was there, and needed them. This left a lot of room for speculation, and Marinette was a creative woman. By the time they arrived, she flew in to the apartment, half expecting to see Adrien's battered corpse on the floor.

What she didn't expect to see was Nino and Adrien wrestling on the floor.

She and Alya both stood frozen by the door, stunned by the sight that greeted them. Adrien was face down on the floor in front of the couch, his face red with exertion. Nino, his glasses askew, sat with one knee in his friends back, and Adrien's arm bent awkwardly behind him. As they watched, Adrien levered Nino off of him, and smoothly reversed their positions.

"What in the HELL?" Alya's sudden shriek caused both men to freeze, and look guiltily toward the women. "Get the fuck off of my boyfriend, Agreste."

With a last shove, he stood. "He wouldn't let me leave."

"Damn right, I wouldn't let you leave," Nino replied angrily. "You were going to run again, dude." His face softened, and concern replaced the anger. "You've gotta stop running. We're here for you. Talk to us."

Adrien was reminded forcefully of his conversation with Ladybug the night before, and all of his anger drained away. He visibly deflated.

Without taking his eyes from Adrien's face, Nino scooped up the letter and handed it to Alya. "Read this."

She took the paper curiously, and held it so that she and Marinette could read it together. Neither bothered to read the whole thing; they read only enough to figure out what had happened.

"Son of a bitch, that's low." Alya dropped the letter to the ground. "That's _low_ , even for him."

Marinette just growled, low in her throat.

Adrien laughed hollowly, and dropped back onto the couch, propping his forearms on his knees and staring at his hands. "No, it's not. He's already disowned me."

Three sets of eyes widened in shock. _"WHAT?"_

He nodded miserably. "It wasn't enough to kick me out and purge my face from the label. He legally disowned me as well."

Nino moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch, throwing his arm along the back. Alya sat next to him, in the lee of his body, but close enough that she could put a hand on Adrien's arm.

"Adrien, why didn't you tell us?"

He shrugged, not looking up. "You didn't ask."

The three friends exchanged glances. "We-we were trying to give you your space, respect your privacy."

"The press were all over you. We figured that the last thing you wanted was for your friends to hound you as well."

Marinette, who had still been standing, rigid with fury, finally moved. She knelt on the floor in front of Adrien, sitting back on her feet, and firmly took his hands in hers. "Adrien," she said softly. "Adrien, look at me." She waited until he raised his eyes before continuing. "Did you think we didn't care?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't have to. It was written on his face.

"Dude, how could you think that?"

Adrien shrugged again.

She closed her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for her failure to be the friend that he needed. When she opened them again, he'd lowered his gaze to their joined hands.

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I-" He stopped, and swallowed thickly. "Until this is over, I have nothing."

"Bullshit." Alya had pulled her hand back, and was staring at him with her arms crossed over her chest. First, and most importantly, you have us. And you can bet your trust fund that we aren't going to let you push us away again."

Adrien laughed again, more genuinely this time.

"Second, you have a lawyer. Call him."

"But I can't pay-"

Alya interrupted him. "Yes, you can. There's no way that the courts are going to side with your dad on this."

"And dude, whatever else you're worried about, we'll handle it. Even if the worst happens, and that bastard somehow wins, it'll be ok."

Marinette squeezed his hands, and he looked at her again. "Just...don't shut us out. We..." She glanced at Nino and Alya, and back to Adrien. "We love you. _Don't shut us out_."

* * *

Marinette was exhaused, but it didn't even cross her mind to back out on patrol that night. If anything, she was looking forward to it. After the days' revelations, she needed the fresh air and the distraction. Not to mention that she was looking forward to spending time with Chat, even if she did owe him an apology for being so blind.

When she arrived at the Eiffel Tower, he was already there, sprawled on a cross-beam two thirds of the way up, as only a cat could be. She swung up to join him, a smile on her lips.

"Hello, _chaton_."

He flicked a glance at her. "Ladybug."

She frowned, stung by his cold manner. "Chat? Is everything ok?"

"No. But, I don't want to talk about it. Let's just get started on this patrol."

"Chat-!"

But he had already leapt from his perch. Dismayed, she jumped after him, working her way back down the Tower.

They worked silently through the city, much as they had the night before. Marinette was once again overwhelmed with worry, but for now, she chose to respect his desire to leave it alone. Finally, when they had made a full circuit of the city, she followed him back up the Tower. This time, rather than stopping at a random cross beam, he went all the way to the observation deck at the top.

This suited Marinette just fine.

Adrien stood at the railing of the deck, staring out over the city. She stood next to him, her arms crossed over her chest and her hip hitched against the rail next to his hand. She watched him for a full minute, before speaking.

"You're doing it again."

"I know."

"Don't shut me out, Chat."

_Don't shut us out..._

He glanced at her, frowning. "I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"Then you obviously need to hear it."

He made a non-committal sound in his throat, and went back to looking out over the city. He heard her sigh beside him, and ignored it.

He had no idea why he wasn't talking to her. The words were there, churning just below the surface, but he couldn't bring himself to voice them. He closed his eyes, willing the mass of pain down, away from where it hovered on his tongue. He probably ought to just leave, but he craved her company as much as he feared it.

Marinette had nearly undone him that afternoon; Ladybug had the power to destroy him utterly.

* * *

Marinette stayed where she was for several long minutes, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she sighed again, and moved to stand behind him. He stiffened almost imperceptibly when she moved. When she laid her cheek on his back, and wrapped her arms around his waist, his body turned to granite.

"If you don't want to talk then listen," she began quietly. "I don't know what happened today, that you're pulling away again, but I will not let you do it. I'm sorry, so _sorry_ that I didn't see it before. I'm sorry that I didn't see your pain, and that I wasn't there for you. But I see you, now, Chat. Whatever it is, I'm here." She tightened her arms around his waist, and turned her face so that it pressed into his back. "I won't let you go."

Slowly, very slowly, he felt himself begin to relax. He released his death grip on the rail and laid an arm over hers.

"I feel like I'm drowning."

He felt her arms clutch tighter, but she said nothing.

"Things...changed for me several months ago. Today, it got worse. My friends, they're trying to help, but...it feels hopeless."

Ladybug pulled her arms away, and tugged on his hip to turn him around. He let her move him, and leaned back against the rail, facing her.

She looked at him, her eyes luminous behind the mask. She still had the fingers of one hand hooked through the belt at his hip; with the other, she cupped his face. "It's never hopeless, _chaton_."

Something inside him shattered. Without rational thought, he put his hands to either side of her face and kissed her. The dam had broken, and suddenly everything he'd tried to stifle came pouring out of him, not in words, but in his kiss. Her lips were warm and pliant, and once she recovered from her surprise, she began to kiss him back. She slid her arms around his neck to anchor herself, and when she felt his tongue at the seam of her lips, she opened to him. His tongue dipped into her mouth, tangling with hers.

Swept away by the passion that had flared between them, he lashed his arms around her, and lifted her against him. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he staggered forward, bracing a hand against the Tower. She tore her mouth away on a gasp, breathing his name and beginning to kiss her way to his jaw.

That soft sound was all it took for him to return to himself. He set her away from him and backed away in horror. Dazed by passion and confused by his sudden retreat, she could only watch in bewilderment as he turned without a word and disappeared into the night.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand I'm back with part two, as promised. There's more language and a bit of MariChat hanky-panky in this one, but it still falls within the realm of the Teen rating.

A dark form, barely more than a shadow, made its way into the underground garage. Inside, there was a wash of green light, and moments later a sleek grey Audi tore out onto the streets, a distinctive blonde at the wheel. On the roof across the street from that garage a young woman sat back on her heels, her eyes wide with shock and understanding. She knew that car, she knew who owned it. And suddenly, a great many things started to make a great deal of sense.

* * *

After transforming, Adrien carelessly tossed a circle of cheese onto the passenger seat for Plagg. Then he was off into the night, desperate to escape from what he had just done.

_What had he been thinking?_

A few sweet words from _her_ , and his mind had shut down. Ladybug had made it clear that she wanted to keep their relationship platonic, and he'd always respected that, until tonight. He'd lost his head and blown through every boundary she'd ever set between them. He hadn't attacked her, but he'd pounced on her, and now, surely, he had lost even her friendship. All he wanted now was to _drive_.

Initially, he had the presence of mind to keep his speed controlled. Outside the city, with the road open before him, he flew. It was late, and there were few other cars on the road. He pushed until the needle edged into the red, but he didn't back off. He kept it there, forcing himself to devote his entire mind to controlling the car, and leaving no room for his tortured thoughts.

Eventually, his demons spent, he slowed. He left the highway, parked in an empty lot, and leaned forward to rest his head on the steering wheel.

"Are you done?"

"Fuck off, Plagg."

"You mind telling me what that was about?"

"I said, fuck off!"

"Are you freaking out because you kissed her?" Plagg flew up to hover near Adrien's head. "Because from what I could tell, she wasn't complaining."

He laughed bitterly. "How could she? I had my tongue down her throat."

"She kissed you back, you idiot." Adrien scoffed, and Plagg rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Do you honestly think that _Ladybug_ would have let you get away with that, if she hadn't wanted it?"

Adrien lifted his head and looked at the kwami, considering. "Probably not," he finally mumbled.

"Probably not? Kid, if she didn't want that kiss, you'd have known. You'd have _probably_ found yourself on the opposite side of that deck, with her handprint on your face."

He frowned, thinking about it. Plagg was right; she'd never been shy about putting him in his place before. Why didn't she this time? Unless…she really did want to kiss him. And idiot that he was, he'd tucked tail and ran as if—as if he'd been repulsed. " _Merde,_ I really am an idiot." He'd fucked up, alright. Not when he kissed her, but when he ran.

"Kid, I've been telling you that for years."

Adrien dropped his head back to the steering wheel with a groan. Now what? He still didn't see how he could face her again, after that.

"Go home, kid. Get me a plate of camembert, and get some sleep. You can figure it out tomorrow."

* * *

Marinette dropped through the skylight into her room, and dropped her transformation. While Tikki helped herself to a cookie, Marinette rummaged around in her bag and pulled out her sketchbook, flipping quickly to the page where she had drawn both Adrien and Chat.

She stared.

_Adrien is Chat Noir._

That was the thought that had been circling itself in her head, from the time that she'd seen the car peel out of the garage. She'd vacillated between doubt and certainty the whole way home. After all, she hadn't _seen_ what happened inside the garage. Perhaps it had been only a coincidence. But, no. She had seen that green light before, and she knew what it meant. And even had she not recognized Adrien _in_ the car, that was his building and his car. No, it was no coincidence.

Now, she was staring at the evidence before her, drawn by her own hand. She's drawn the two men in exactly the same way, with the same hooded, haunted expression. The face was the same. The only difference was the mask. Marinette sat heavily in her desk chair and propped her head in her hands.

_Adrien is Chat Noir._

On some level, she must have known. The drawings told it plainly. Had she been willfully blind? How could she have possibly ignored what was right in front of her face?

A sob tore from her throat and she collapsed forward onto her desk, cradling her head on her arms. She was furious and ashamed, and heartbroken.

 _Adrien_ was Chat Noir, and she had failed him, twice.

Tikki, who had long since finished her snack, floated over to where Marinette sat sobbing at her desk, and landed on the girl's arm. She pulled a thick lock of hair from her chosen's face, and hooked it behind her ear so that she could see her. "Marinette?"

"Oh, Tikki!" She turned her face to look at her kwami. "I feel awful!"

"Sshhh, Marinette."

"B-but Adrien is—"

"Chat Noir, yes, I know."

Her head snapped up. "You _knew_?" she asked incredulously.

Tikki hesitated. "I…suspected. I didn't know for sure until tonight."

Marinette's eyes slid closed. Even Tikki had been more aware than she was.

"Please, Marinette, don't beat yourself up. Sometimes, it's easier to see these things when you aren't in the middle of them."

"It doesn't matter." She sniffled, and reached for a tissue from the box on her desk. "I should have been there for him."

"You did what you thought was best, for Adrien. You couldn't have known that he would take it the wrong way. And as for Chat… Well, you're human, Marinette. You make mistakes. Now that you know, you can fix it."

"I guess you're right, Tikki, but it doesn't make me feel any better about any of it." She pushed away from her desk and moved to pull pajamas out of her armoir. "I mean, what do I _do_?"

"I don't know. Do you want to tell him, about who you are?"

Marinette paused for a moment, a soft cotton tee in her hands. "I—I don't know. Should I? You've always been so insistent that I never tell anyone."

"Normally, I would say no. But, this is different. You and Adrien are different. I think…yes, I think that you should tell him. And, Marinette?"

Marinette paused again to meet the Kwami's eyes.

"You also need to tell him how you feel. It's time."

* * *

Marinette forced herself out of bed early the next morning, despite the fact that she'd gone to bed so late. It took three cups of coffee to animate her, but still, she did it. It was Wednesday, which meant more algebra. More importantly, it meant an opportunity to spend time with Adrien, and to begin repairing what had gone wrong with them.

She wasn't going to waste it, and Marinette was a girl with a plan.

Once dressed and sufficiently caffeinated, she went to the bakery downstairs and collected a selection of pastries to take with her. Then, with a wave to her stunned parents, she was out the door a full two hours early.

On the way to the guys' apartment, she stopped at their favorite café and got 4 coffees to go: An Americano with lots of cream but no sugar for Nino; a hazelnut latte with extra sugar for Alya; a vanilla latte for Adrien, and a mocha latte for herself. Thus armed with both breakfast and coffee, she continued to their apartment and let herself in through the unlocked door. She set her burdens on the counter in the small kitchen, and found a bleary-eyed Alya sitting at the table, a nearly-empty coffee cup between her hands. From up the hall, she could hear the water running in the bathroom. Nino, or Adrien?

Marinette smiled. "I thought I'd find you here," she said to her friend, removing the cup and replacing it with the fresh latte.

She blinked owlishly at the coffee, and then at Marinette. "Are you real?"

"Yes, I'm real. And so are the coffee, and the pastries in there on the counter. You're welcome."

"You are a sweet angel of mercy," she said with feeling. She took a long pull on the coffee, humming in her throat. "Perfect. I think I love you. Will you marry me?"

Marinette laughed. "What about Nino?"

"Nino didn't get up early to bring me coffee." She frowned. "Wait. You got up early?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd go in to class with Adrien today. You know, keep him company?"

Alya lit up. "Oh, that's a great idea! I'm not sure he'll wake up in time, though. He got in really late last night."

Ah, so it was Nino in the shower then. She shrugged, and pulled the vanilla latte from the drink carrier. "Then I'll just go wake him up. After all, we wouldn't want his coffee to get cold." She ignored the way Alya's eyes bugged out of her head, and went up the hall to his door. There, though, her bravado faltered. She'd been here, in this apartment, many times, but she'd never been in his room. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her empty hand and tapped gently on the door.

"A-Adrien?" Silence. She tapped a bit harder. "Adrien, may I come in?" Still nothing. She knocked firmly. At the continued silence, she frowned, and looked back at Alya, who was watching her in fascination from the end of the hall. Alya held her hand out in a clear gesture of expectation, and Marinette turned back to the door, her hand on the knob. It turned freely, and she cracked the door open a bit. "Adrien? It's Marinette." She eased the door open, and stepped inside. "I'm coming in, ok?"

His room was dark, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they had, she set the coffee on his desk and moved to the window, and having belatedly realized that he might sleep in the nude, studiously avoided the bed in the middle. She tugged open the black-out curtains to let the morning light into his room, but she left the blinds. There was a muffled groan and the rustling of sheets from the bed. Steeling herself, she turned to look. She needn't have bothered; he was almost completely hidden by a thick comforter, and all she could see was the thick forearm he'd thrown over the pillow on his face. "Adrien? I brought coffee."

The arm flexed, and the pillow shifted. "Marinette?"

His voice was sleep-rough, and Marinette made a point of ignoring the effect it had on her heart rate. She smiled brightly, and crossed back to the door. "I put your coffee on your desk. I'll wait for you out here!" And with that, she whisked herself out of the room and closed the door behind her.

"I cannot believe you just did that."

"Huh?" She saw that Nino had joined Alya at the end of the hall, and both were snickering.

"Dude, you just waltzed right in there, yanked open his curtains, and demanded he get up."

She leaned against the door frame. "I did not!"

There was a subtle draft of air, and Adrien said from right behind her, "You did."

Marinette shrieked in surprise, jumping away from the door with a hand pressed to her heart. Alya and Nino just laughed. "W-well, maybe I did," she said, scowling at them. She turned back to Adrien. "But at least I brought you coffee!"

* * *

They elected to walk to class, rather than taking his car. There was no need; it wasn't that far, they had plenty of time, and while cold, the day was sunny. Adrien glanced at the woman walking next to him, and wondered for the hundredth time what had possessed her to do what she had that morning. Marinette didn't oversleep as much as she used to, but she was never _early_. And she'd clearly gone out of her way, bringing not just pastries from her parents' bakery, but his favorite coffee, as well.

The morning had felt almost like it had when they were still at Lycée, before the nightmare had started. It had felt good, and reminded him how much he missed those days. After leaving Nino and Alya behind, though, Marinette had been quiet and withdrawn. He couldn't figure her out. Finally he decided to just ask her.

His question seemed to startle her, as if she'd been lost in thought. She blushed lightly, and glanced at him sheepishly. "You said yesterday that you have to maintain your enrollment here, and I realized that that's why you never miss class. Well, except for Monday. So, I thought I would come over to make sure you got up in time, and made it to class."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just called?"

Her blush deepened. "I could have. But then you wouldn't have had your favorite coffee."

"That is true." He smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you for that, by the way. You will have to let me return the favor sometime."

"Actually, I was wondering, would you want to get lunch or something later, after class?"

Adrien stopped walking and looked at her in surprise. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, did you just ask me out?"

At this, her blush deepened to a point that he hadn't seen on her in years. "N-no! I mean, not exactly. There's something I need to talk to you about."

What he really wanted to do was talk to Ladybug, but since he wouldn't see her until that night, he nodded to Marinette. "Sure. Lunch sounds good." He smiled, and tapped her bag. "I don't suppose you have the notes from Monday's class in there, do you?"

She smiled happily at him.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

They were about halfway through their algebra class when one of the other professors interrupted them with a message for their teacher. He came into the room, walked straight to her, and spoke urgently into her ear. As he spoke, the woman's face turned a sickly grey color, and she stumbled to the nearest chair to sit. The other teacher squeezed the woman's shoulder sympathetically, then turned to the class. "There has been an akuma attack near the catacombs." At this, murmurs went through the room. "Mme. Durand is…close to the victim. The rest of your class has been cancelled for today."

Marinette and Adrien stood with the rest of the class and began to filter out of the large room, and then, out of the building. Adrien paused on the side walk, and snagged her elbow. "So, I think I forgot something back at the apartment." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and with a start, she recognized the gesture as something that both he and Chat did often. "Since class was cancelled, I'm going to run back and get it."

She blinked at Adrien, at _Chat Noir_ , and realized that soon, they wouldn't have to think of reasons to ditch one another to transform. She smiled, and nodded. "Sure! I'm going to go to the library, and use the time to study."

He smiled in relief. "Hey, maybe I can catch up with you there, later?"

"Okay. Later, then."

"Later!"

She watched him jog away, and then went in the opposite direction, grinning like an idiot. 'Later' was going to come a lot sooner than he thought.

* * *

Adrien ducked into a nearby building, and went straight to the nearest stairwell to transform. He took the stairs to the roof, and once there, paused for a moment to orient himself. He knew only that the akuma was 'near the catacombs', so he headed in that general direction, keeping his ears perked for screams. It didn't take long for him to begin hearing them.

He didn't immediately see the akuma, but he knew immediately that it was a bad one. The people fleeing from it were screaming in true terror, in a way that he had not often seen. The quality of those screams was such that they made his hair stand on end. He picked up speed, wanting to put himself between the akuma and the people of Paris as soon as possible.

When he found it, the akuma was just east of the Montparnasse Cemetery. In appearance, it was unremarkable; there was no elaborate or flamboyant costume. He was a man in late middle age, with thinning hair, a ruddy complexion, and a cheap suit. Physically, he was marked as an akuma only by the twin purple voids where his eyes should have been, and the shimmering purple-black knife he held in his hand. But Chat didn't need to see the eyes or even the knife to know that he had the right guy. The akuma had gone on a violent rampage, visciously maiming and killing anyone he could get his hands on, and he was covered in gore.

Chat Noir shuddered, and felt his gorge rise. A few of the bloodied people he saw were still alive; most were dead, their glassy eyes staring sightlessly. Blood pooled in the street. This was by far the worst one they had yet faced, and he knew that it was going to be a brutal fight. He reminded himself that if they could free the man of his possession, and cleanse the akuma, that Ladybug's magic would restore the city to what it had been before the akuma had attacked—including restoring those lives that were taken.

He leapt to the street not far from where the akuma paced along at a measured, methodical pace, and landed with an intentional clatter. The akuma turned to him with a sneer, and began to stalk back the way he'd come.

"Ah, there you are, Chat. I am The Butcher. Not a terribly original name, I know, but it's apt. What do you think of my handiwork?"

"I think that even after you're freed, we're going to need to find you a nice padded room for a while."

The Butcher chuckled darkly. "Oh, I don't think so. I'm enjoying this too much to let you spoil it. All I have to do is collect a few trinkets from you and your partner, and Hawkmoth said that I can make Paris my playground."

Chat pulled his lips back in a snarl. "The hell you will."

The gore-spattered akuma flipped the knife in his hand, grinning evilly. "How are you going to stop me?" He returned arrogantly, and threw the knife with deadly accuracy.

He jumped out of the way, but he didn't move quite fast enough. The blade clipped him on his left side, just below his heart. It wasn't bad, but it hurt like the very devil.

Ladybug landed on a car right behind him, her pale face stark against the red of her suit. "Now Chat, let's not taunt the nasty akuma, please."

"How kind of you to join us, little bug." The Butcher continued to stalk purposefully toward them. He lifted his hand, and the eerie knife flew back to it. "I think perhaps I will start with you. Surely Hawkmoth won't mind if I simply carve your ears from your body, will he?"

"You're not going to touch her!" Chat snarled, charging the akuma. With another evil grin, The Butcher ran to meet Chat, his bloody knife raised.

* * *

Ladybug watched in horror as the two clashed, that wicked knife flashing far too close to her partner's body far too many times for her peace of mind. Desperate to end this awful fight _now_ , she called for her lucky charm. A small photograph fluttered down into her hand, and she stared at it in confusion.

The photo was of a young woman about Marinette's age, with long auburn hair and blue eyes. The girl looked familiar, but at first, she couldn't place her. Then, all of a sudden, it clicked. "Mon dieu," she whispered, staring at the photo sadly. "I know what to do."

She stood, and jumped from the top of the car. The two men were no longer grappling, but circling each other warily. She approached them calmly. "They butchered her, didn't they?"

The Butcher froze, then spun to face her. "Shut up!"

"They butchered your little girl, and left her mangled body for you to find."

Chat moved toward her, nervously. "Ladybug? What happened to not taunting the akuma?"

At the same time, the akuma took a menacing step, and brandished the knife. "I said shut up!"

"Ladybug, please, let's just get the knife and break it so we can be finished."

"It's not in the knife. Is it, Butcher?" She darted her eyes at Chat, and widened them briefly. Then she held the picture up to the akuma. "It's in this photo, of your daughter. The one you always kept near your heart." That last bit was only a guess, and she prayed that she was right.

"What? No! How did you get that?!" He lunged for the photo, desperate to reclaim the reminder of his lost child. While he was distracted, Chat darted in, pulled the real photo from the pocket of The Buthcher's suit jacket, and used his forward momentum to roll out of the way.

At the same time, the Butcher realized their ploy, and shifted his weight so that he lunged not for the picture, but for Ladybug herself. When Chat came to his feet, it was to see that the Butcher held Ladybug pinned against his body with one arm slung across her shoulders, and his knife poised at her throat. As he watched, The Butcher drew the blade lightly across her skin, drawing a thin red line that crossed her throat and angled up toward her ear. Somehow, her skin had paled even further, but she didn't look frightened. She looked mad as hell.

Chat faced him, gripping his staff tightly, the photo having been stuffed into his own pocket. "Let her go."

"Not until I get my souvenir." He edged the knife up a bit higher, and Ladybug felt it bite into the delicate skin where her ear met her neck.

Furious, she brought her head forward and slammed it back into his face, crushing his nose with a sickening thud. Then she used the force of the strike to send them both crashing backward, to the ground. His arm loosened in surprise, and she rolled away, coming to her feet in a fighting stance.

"Mon dieu, your ear!"

She raised a hand to her ear, and hissed when she felt that it had been partially severed. His knife must have cut her when she'd jerked her head. Ladybug swiped angrily at the warm blood running down the side of her face, and glared at the Butcher, who still lay dazed on the ground.

She rounded on Chat, holding her hand out for the picture. He handed it to her, and she ripped it in half far more aggressively than necessary, throwing the rent paper to the ground. She pulled her yoyo from her hip and captured the butterfly as she always did, but before she could release it, Chat shoved her to the ground.

"What the—CHAT!" The Butcher was on his feet, an expression of unholy glee on his face. He held her partner in a macabre mockery of affection, his knife buried to the hilt in Chat's side. She knew in an instant that Chat had taken a blow meant for her. With a ragged scream, she flew at the akuma and planted her fist in the middle of his ruined nose. He released Chats body in surprised agony.

She caught him, and lowered him to the ground gently. Then she released the now cleansed butterfly into the air, and threw the crumpled photograph up after it. Never before had she put so much of herself into her "Miraculous Ladybug!" cry as she did that day.

Her job done, she gathered Adrien to her chest, and even though she knew that he would be alright, she wept as her magic swept the city.

* * *

As the magic swept over them, Adrien could feel the blinding pain in his side recede, and the strength returning to his body. He became aware of his surroundings as he had not been before, and realized that a sobbing Ladybug was clutching him to her body.

She had done it, then. Her magic had erased everything but the memories of the attack. He brought his arms up to wrap them around her. She stiffened, and pulled away to look at his face.

"Chat?"

"I'm ok, milady," he said, sitting up.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid cat!" She threw herself at him, throwing him momentarily off balance, and crushed her lips to his. She broke the kiss as abruptly as she'd started it, framing his face between her hands. "You stupid, reckless, wonderful cat! Don't ever do that to me again!" She kissed him again, and then she was standing and yanking him up after her. "Come on, Chat. We said that we would talk later, and now it's later. Besides, my earrings are beeping."

"What? What are you—"

"I'll explain, but not until we can get away from here." She gestured with a subtle tilt of her head, and he saw what she had already noticed: their audience.

He nodded. "Where?"

She hesitated. "The Dupain-Cheng bakery."

His eyebrows flew up. Marinette's bakery? "Alright. After you, milady."

As they moved quickly through the city, he wondered just what in the hell was going on. Normally, this was about the time that she was making a quick getaway, so that she could de-transform without revealing her precious identity. But now, she wanted to talk?

They landed lightly on Marinette's rooftop balcony, and Ladybug pulled open the skylight door. "Come on, in here."

"But, we can't just—"

"Chat! Please, just, trust me?"

Gritting his teeth, he followed her down into Marinette's room. "Would you please explain to me—oomph!"

She'd thrown herself at him again. Her arms were locked around his neck, she'd pressed the entire length of her body flush against him, and she was kissing him as if she might never kiss anyone again. He was confused beyond belief, but at that moment, he barely possessed the mental capacity to process the fact that Ladybug—his Ladybug—was pressed intimately against him in a way that he had dreamed but never expected, much less why she might be doing so in Marinette's bedroom. He lost himself to the feeling of her body in his arms, and the feverish way she kissed him. She opened her mouth and drew his lower lip between her teeth, then thrust her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Inundated by the experience, he slid his hands down over the small of her back to grip her derrière, and lift her more fully against him.

So engrossed were they that neither of them noticed when her earrings gave a final warning beep. The pink light of her transformation was able to penetrate the fog in his brain, though. Apparently it had hers, as well. She tore her mouth away and pressed him even closer, so that he was looking over her shoulder, and could not see her.

It wasn't until the bitter disappointment shot through him that he realized how desperately he wanted her to reveal herself, but he didn't try to force it. He just rested his chin on her shoulder and held her tighter, trying to calm the rapid tattoo of his heart.

They stayed that way for several tense moments, as their breathing slowed and he waited for her to speak. He knew that something had changed between them, and he knew that whatever she had to say, it was going to change things further. He thought he was prepared. She drew in a breath to speak, and he held his.

"Chat, I know who you are."

He wasn't prepared. At all. He released his held breath in a "puh" of surprise, and tried to pull away, but she held him firm.

"No, wait! Please, Adrien, I'm not done."

The shock went through him again, even greater this time, at hearing his name on her lips. He said nothing, but held her still tighter.

"I know who you are, and…I want you to know who I am. But, I want you to know, now, that…" She paused, and drew in a deep, unsteady breath. He suddenly became aware of a tremor in her voice, and realized that she was just as uncertain and vulnerable in this moment as he was. "I need you to know that I love you. I love all of you. I was already planning to tell you, even before"—her breath caught on a sob, and she continued in a rush—"even before today. But I almost lost you and even though I knew you would be ok, I was—I was shattered. I just—I need you to know that _I love you_."

He absorbed her words with shock, and yet every word from her mouth was like rain falling onto parched earth. Slowly, they sank in and began to heal the broken places inside.

Ladybug loved him.

_Ladybug loved him!_

Slowly, he began to relax his grip on her body, and though he felt her doing the same in response, she did not let go entirely, or move away from him at all. "Do I know you? Beyond—"

"Yes." Her voice was small, and even more uncertain than before.

"Show me." He felt her fingers clutch at his neck, but she didn't move. He closed his eyes, worried now that she wouldn't let him see her after all. And he needed it to come from her. He needed it to be her choice, to know that he hadn't taken it from her. "Please, milady? If you want me to know, show me."

* * *

Marinette bit her lip at his words. She wanted this, but now that she had come to the point, all of her old insecurities had come roaring back. Once upon a time, he'd been attracted to her, she knew. He'd even claimed to love her a time or two, but she hadn't taken him seriously, and eventually, he'd quit trying. At the time, she'd been relieved. Now, that she finally knew her own heart, she worried that she'd lost her chance. And when he finally saw the girl behind the mask, would he be disappointed? Adrien had never seemed to care for her as more than a friend, or shown any inclination to develop their friendship further.

But the time for doubts had passed. She'd already laid all of her cards on the table. All, save this one.

"Okay," she finally said, and stepped back from him. She heard his breath catch, but she wasn't brave enough to look at his face, to see the recognition light his eyes or the wonder in his expression. She stood with her eyes on the floor between them, one hand tightly gripping the opposite arm anxiously.

He stepped to her and breathed her name, tipping her face up to his with a gentle hand. Her eyes were closed, her lashes spiked with tears. "Marinette," he said again. "Look at me."

She opened liquid eyes, and saw reflected in his face all that she felt. He was standing close enough so that his leather-clad body only just brushed her sweater, and he still cradled her face in one hand. "I have been in love with you, Ladybug, since the day we met." Her lips parted on an indrawn breath, and he placed his finger against them. "It was never about the costume, or the magic. All I have ever wanted is the woman underneath." He moved his hand from its place over her mouth, to the back of her neck. "To know that that woman has been right in front of me all this time, to know that _she_ was _you_ …" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I love you, Marinette."

He kissed her then, brushing his mouth over hers in a gentle caress. She swayed into him, savoring the firm, supple feel of his mouth on hers as she had not been able to do in any of their other kisses. Those had been frantic kisses, born of pain or fear or relief. This one was both an exploration and an affirmation. She released her death grip on her arm, and put her hands to his waist, enjoying the feel of warm leather under her palms. As they continued their gentle kiss, she slid her hands up to his chest and over his shoulders, where she linked her arms loosely behind his neck.

Adrien still had one hand tangled in her hair; he set the other at her hip and tugged her closer, closing the distance between their bodies. He deepened the kiss, and the banked passion between them flared once again. Her hands slid back to his face, and she ran her thumbs over his mask.

Marinette leaned away, frowning. "Get rid of this. I want to see _you_."

Smiling, he released the transformation to stand before her not as Chat Noir, but as Adrien. The mask disappeared from beneath her fingers, leaving them to rest on the bare skin of his face. She drew her thumbs over his cheeks again, and stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. A smile broke over her face and she pulled him to her again, to resume their kiss as if they'd never stopped.

* * *

Dimly, they were aware of an annoyed Plagg demanding cheese, and a chagrined Tikki shushing him. She, at least, had been considerate enough to make herself scarce as soon as Marinette had transformed. Now, she grabbed Plagg by the paw and hauled him to her sanctuary, where she told him to sit down, shut up, and have a cookie. Plagg, being a smart kwami, made only a token protest ("What, no camembert?") before subsiding to a tiny cushion with the proffered cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No timeline for Part Three; I'll reiterate that I LOVE comments. ;)


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In addition to exploring his new relationship with Marinette, Adrien begins working to fight his father's latest tactic, and is surprised with an unexpected ally.  
> ***Warning: This chapter contains explicit content. If you wish to skip that part, you're safe until after the second page break.***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been three whole months since I updated this one, whoops! And, I'd thought that I'd be wrapping it up in this chapter, but....it's going to take at least one more. This is what I get for not planning this shit out... But anyway. Here, have a little bit of plot and then a whole lot of explicit Adrienette. None of it has been proofread, so if you catch anything, let me know!!

It was several days later that Nathalie showed up at Adrien’s apartment.

During that time, Adrien and Marinette had slid easily into a relationship.  This baffled both Alya and Nino, who couldn’t understand what had changed between them so quickly.  But really, the only change was that without the masks, their partnership had bled over into their civilian lives.  They still had plenty to learn about one another, of course, but they were enjoying the process.

Adrien had met with the school administration to notify them of his current circumstances, and to request an extension on the deadline for his tuition for the next semester.  The extension was easily granted, thus securing Adrien’s immediate future as a student. 

He also met with his lawyers and discovered that they would represent him in spite of the fact that all of his assets had been frozen and he could not actually pay them until or unless they were successful.  But, he had been assured, there was no question over who would win.  The case was so flimsy that the senior partners at Barre, Olivier & Roux had believed that it was a joke when first presented with it.  After having been assured that it was, in fact very real, all three lawyers had smiled like sharks scenting blood, and Adrien walked out of their office feeling far more confident than he had when he walked in.

That night, they were celebrating.  Adrien and Nino had ordered take out, and Alya and Marintette brought wine.  All four were draped over one another on the couch, the remains of their meal spread on the coffee table before them and the second bottle of wine more than half empty.  They were all laughing, teasing Marinette for being a light weight, when the buzzer sounded.

Adrien frowned at Nino.  “Were you expecting someone?”

“Nope.  Sit tight, I’ll get it.”  He patted Alya’s legs, and she obligingly removed them from his lap with a groan.  “Sorry, babe.”

At the door, he hit the intercom.  “Yo.”

“Nino?  This is Nathalie Sancoeur.  I need to speak with Adrien, please.” 

His expression darkened.  “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Nino, please.  I’m not here for Gabriel.  Is Adrien there?”

He glared at the intercom, then looked to Adrien.  “What do you want to do, man?”

Adrien, who had stiffened as soon as he heard her voice, shrugged.  “I’m willing to hear what she has to say.”

“Shit.  If you say so, man.  You don’t owe her anything.”  At Adrien’s nod, he sighed and hit the intercom button again, as well as the door release.  “Come on up.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed utterly.  While Nino waited by the door for their uninvited guest, Marinette stood and began clearing the mess from their dinner and the others joined her.  It didn’t take long; they were finished by the time Nathalie arrived.

At her knock, all four looked to the door, and then gaped in surprise when Nino opened it.  It was definitely Nathalie Sancoeur, but not as they’d ever seen her before.  Adrien had known her for ten years, but in all of that time he had never seen her in anything but professional attire with her hair pinned into a smart bun.  Tonight, she wore a casual black sweater with dark colored jeans, and her hair fell in a loose braid over her shoulder. 

She shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, and clutched the thick folder in her harms just a little bit tighter.  “May I come in, please?” she asked, stiffly.

“Ah, yeah.  Please.”  Nino stood to the side and held his hand out in a clear gesture of invitation.  

She nodded and walked stiffly into the apartment, then looked around awkwardly.  She cleared her throat.  “Is there somewhere we could speak privately, Adrien?”

“No.”  Adrien walked around to the couch and dropped comfortably into the corner.  “But we can sit and talk here.  I’d just tell them everything later, anyway.”

“Ah.  Right.”  She cleared her throat and moved to sit at the edge of the plush chair set adjacent to the couch, and fiddled with her folder as the others found their seats.

“What are you doing here, Nathalie?”  Adrien prompted her gently, when she didn’t speak. 

She looked up, and her eyes lingered briefly on Marinette’s cozy position at his side.  Then, she met his eyes directly.  “I’ve come to offer you an apology, Adrien.  And to offer my assistance, if you will accept it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I no longer work for your father, Adrien.  I quit.”  Shock registered on four faces, and she acknowledged it with a humorless laugh.  “I should have done it a long time ago.  What he’s done to you is wrong.  What he’s _doing_ to you is wrong, and I just couldn’t be a part of it anymore.”

“You—you quit, because of me?”

“Largely, yes.  As I said, I should have done it a long time ago.  I have always hated the way he treated you.  But I thought at first that it was none of my business, what kind of parent he was.  Then I thought that if I was the one who was there, that perhaps I could help.  Perhaps I could make it a little bit better.  But I didn’t do enough for you, Adrien, and for that I’m sorry.  I should have quit, and I should have reported him to the authorities a long time ago.”

Nino sat back against the couch cushions, and glanced at Adrien, before looking back to Nathalie.  “Why didn’t you?”

She looked at the folder in her lap.  “Because I convinced myself that it wasn’t necessary.  Because I was afraid.”

“And you think it’s necessary now?”  Alya asked quietly.

“I do.”  She sighed, and finally sat all the way back in her chair, slumping into the plush cushions. “I’m sorry, this is hard to talk about, especially with…an audience.”

“It’s hard to hear.”  Adrien shrugged.  “And these three…these three are my family.”

Nathalie nodded, conceding the point.  “Let me back up, just a little bit.  I hated that he hid your inheritance from you.  Your mom wanted you to have it, and it’s _yours_.”  

Marinette’s eyes widened.  “You’re the one who contacted the lawyer, aren’t you?”

“Yes.  I contacted his mother’s firm and suggested to them that he had not been notified.”

“Shit,” Nino breathed.

Adrien scrubbed a hand over his face.  “I can only assume that father doesn’t know that.”

“No, certainly not.”  She scoffed, and shook her head.  “I wanted for you to get away from him; I wanted him to lose his ability to control you.  But, I think he went a little crazy.  He is obsessed with control, and it made him insane to lose it.  I had no idea that he would disown you.  I almost quit then; I just couldn’t see what purpose that would have served.  I knew you had your mother’s money, that he couldn’t touch it.”

She sighed again, and dropped her head back against the cushion.  “But then he got the idea to challenge your mother’s will, and her legacy for you.”  She laughed bitterly.  “He just couldn’t let it go.  His own lawyers tried to dissuade him, but he made it clear that either they would help him pursue that avenue, or he would find someone else who would.”

Nino scoffed.  “Of course he did.”

“Naturally, they fell in line and started the process.  When they pointed out that my knowledge would be a liability in their already weak case, he tried to make me sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“And you refused,” Marinette supplied.

Nathalie inclined her head in agreement.  “And I refused.  At that point, I didn’t even give him a chance to hold my job over my head.  I simply declined to sign the agreement, gave verbal notice, and walked out.”

“What will you do next?” Adrien asked quietly.

She gave him a wan smile.  “Take a holiday.”

Her smile was echoed around the room. They all knew what she went through working for Gabriel Agreste, though none so well as Adrien.

“First, though, I want to help you settle this mess with your father.” She took the folder from her lap, and tossed it onto the table.  “I’ve been documenting your father’s treatment of you for years.  None of those papers belong to him, and I made no photocopies without permission.  You’re still using your mother’s firm?”

Adrien looked up from the open folder, and nodded.

“Good.  Not only do I want you to fight his ridiculous claim regarding your mother’s legacy, I want you to counter-sue.  Take that in to them; I think you will find plenty in there to work with.”

“Nathalie, I—”  He closed the folder, and set it carefully back on the table.  “I don’t know what to say.”

She stood, smiling sadly.  “Say that one day, you’ll forgive me for not doing something sooner.”

“Fuck that.” 

Her smile fell, and she watched in confusion as he rounded the table, clearly expecting to be ushered from the apartment. 

When he instead wrapped her in a tight hug, she was flummoxed by the gesture.  She stood awkwardly with her hands hovering by his sides. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Nathalie.”

On a sob, she hugged him back.  

* * *

 

Adrien closed the door behind Nathalie and leaned against it, heaving a sigh.

Marinette brushed his hair from his face, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”  He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close.  “I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“That was a lot to take in.”

“Hmm.”  He squeezed her, then set her back so he could push away from the door.  “Nathalie has always had a bit of a soft spot for me.”

She followed him up the hall and into his room, as if she’d always done so.  It was hard to believe that she’d barged in here for the first time just days earlier.  She smiled at the thought and pushed the door closed behind her.  “Seems like more than a bit.”

“I guess it does.”  He sat at the end of his bed, and rested his forearms on his knees.  “She’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mother, since…”

“I know.”  She sat next to him with her arm draped over his back, and rested her head on his shoulder.  “I think…I think she feels the same about you.”

“A week ago I thought that no one cared about me.”

“Adrien—”

“I knew you guys cared, Mari, but—”  He groaned in frustration.  “It’s like, it didn’t feel real.  Or maybe I didn’t believe it.  I don’t know how to explain it.”

She ran her hand down his arm to his hand, and laced her fingers through his.  “It’s ok, _Chaton_.”

“In a week, I’ve gone from feeling completely alone, to-to _this_.  You, and Nino, and then Nathalie.   It’s—it’s overwhelming.”

“It’s good though, right?”

He laughed, a bit of amazement coloring the sound.  “Yeah.  I keep worrying that I’m going to wake up, and find that none of this really happened, and I’ll still be trapped with no way to fight him and no one to help me.”

“Oh, _minou_.  This is real.”  She slid from the bed and knelt between his feet, cupping his face in her hands.  “You have us.  You have _me_.  I’m not going anywhere.”

He studied her face intently, as if memorizing her features.  “I love you, Marinette.”

She kissed him.  “And I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.  “So much.”

He slid his hands around her hips and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.  She responded immediately, and the heat rose quickly.  They hadn’t done much of this since the day she’s revealed herself.  There had been kisses, but they’d somehow come to a tacit agreement to hold off on _more_ as they adjusted to their new status.  It seemed that now, he was as ready to revisit this as she was.  She moaned into the kiss, and brought her arms around his neck.

Kissing him without the mask was somehow more intimate, more intense, and she wondered fleetingly whether it was the same for him, but rational thought was quickly incinerated. The heat between them was a palpable thing, drawing them ever deeper into the flames. 

Feverishly, her mouth moving from his mouth to his jaw and down his neck, Marinette began to tug the buttons from their holes in his black shirt and his head tipped back.  She caused more than one to pop off in her haste, but she didn’t care.  When the last one came free, she returned her mouth to his and placed her palms on his taut stomach, reveling in the feel of his heated skin as she slid them up his chest and over his shoulders to push the shirt from his arms. 

 

* * *

 

Adrien hadn’t realized what she was about until the first button went flying, but he wholly approved.  When she finished, he released her only long enough to toss the discarded shirt to the floor, and then he urged her to her feet, sliding his hands beneath her shirt, drawing them up over her ribs, taking her shirt with them.  He paused for a moment when he felt the fabric of her bra under his fingers, but she raised her arms in invitation.  Her shirt joined his on the floor.

Beneath her tunic-style top, she wore a pale pink cotton bra that showed the barest hint of the nipple beneath. Her breasts were not large, but they perfectly suited her petite figure.  Below her bra, her body tapered to a trim waist and flared again at her hips. He knew her figure well; he’d been fighting with her in skin tight spandex for years.  Seeing her now, without the mask and clad in little more than her skin, his mouth went dry. “Jesu, Marinette…” 

She smiled, siren-like, at his open appreciation, and grabbed his head to draw his mouth back to her lips.  He spanned her narrow waist with his hands and pulled her between his legs.  She continued to kiss him, nibbling at his lips and drawing on his tongue in a way that made him almost dizzy. 

He slid his hand down over her ass to the back of her knee, and tugged it forward over his lap and onto the mattress.  She caught on immediately, and brought her other knee forward so that she was straddling his lap.  Their bodies pressed together and they gasped at the electric feel of skin against warm skin as she slid down to rest her weight on his lap. 

He nipped her lower lip between his teeth, and moved from her mouth to the sensitive skin just below her ear.  She tangled her hands in his hair, and tipped her head back in clear invitation. He made free with his mouth over her face, her throat and her shoulders, tasting and exploring.  He found where her pulse beat in her throat, and kissed her there, swirling his tongue over the spot.  Then he continued down to her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the hollow there before continuing to the juncture where her neck met her shoulder.  He nipped her gently, drawing his teeth over the sensitive skin.  He felt her shiver in reaction. 

“F-fuck,  Adrien,” she gasped.  She lifted herself from his lap and pushed at his shoulder.  “Scoot back, to the pillows.”

He kissed her again and did as he was told, scooting up towards the pillows and lying back against them.  She crawled over him, and began teasing him with her mouth at his stomach as she moved up his body, her lips and tongue learning his contours intimately.  It felt glorious, each touch from her clever mouth sending a thrill of sensation to his groin.  She tugged at one flat nipple with her teeth, and he fisted his hands in the sheets, panting.

“You can touch me, Adrien.”

He opened his eyes to look at her, his expression unsure, his breath ragged.  “Like this?”  He lifted his hands to stroke them up over her sides and back down again. 

“More.  I want your hands on me.”

His eyes darkened at her plea for more.  He dipped his fingers just under the waist band of her leggings at her hip, and drew the backs lightly across her belly to the opposite hip.  Her breath caught.  “This?” 

She shook her head.  “More.”

He brought his hand to her breast, and pressed his flat palm over the nipple, through the thin, soft material of her bra.  He moved it in a leisurely circle, watching her eyes.  “What about this?”

This time, Marinette nodded, but she still said “ _More_.”

Still watching her face, he slid his hand behind her to fumble with the closure of her bra.  It came free, but rather than taking it from her body, he slid his hand under the loosened material to repeat what he had done before.  The slow circling motion caused her nipple to roll; she hissed in a breath and arched into his hand, increasing the contact between them.   “Ah, like this, then.”

“Mon dieu, yes,” she gasped.  On a moan, he closed his hand around her breast to knead it gently, and she lowered her mouth to his once more.  She whimpered into his mouth; he swallowed the sound and became determined to wring more such sounds from her. 

He pulled his hand from beneath her bra and rolled them so that she lay against the pillows, then relieved her of the bra entirely.  He lowered himself over her, taking her mouth and paying her other breast the same attention he’s given the first.  She writhed against him in response, and her reaction emboldened him. He slid down her body, kissing her fevered skin as he went, down her throat and up the slope of her breast.  He pressed open-mouthed kisses that fell just beyond the pert bud in the middle.  She groaned at the teasing caresses, and he smirked, feeling every inch the roguish Chat Noir.  Then he closed his mouth over her nipple, and laved his tongue over and around the sensitive peak.  She moaned again, and tipped her hips in an instinctive response. 

Her reactions were feeding his fire, goading him along.  He groaned, and shifted his weight over her body, to give the same attention to the other side.  She must have thought that she intended to stop: she whimpered in disappointment, clasping his hair to try to hold him in place until his mouth fell just to the side of her other nipple.  With a pleasured sigh, she released him to run her hands over all of him that she could reach. 

Wanting more of her whimpers, he experimentally dragged his teeth lightly over her nipple, and was rewarded with a gasp as she bucked against him, clutching at his shoulders.  He did it again, and again, reveling in the sounds he drew from her.

She dragged his head back up, and thrust her tongue into his mouth.  When he responded in kind, she drew on his tongue, sucking firmly.  He made a surprised sound low in his throat and she released him, panting.  “Did that hurt?”

“Dieu, no.  It felt amazing.”  Marinette leaned back up to kiss him, tangling her fingers in his hair and sucking on his tongue again.  “Fuck, Marinette.  You do that like you want something else entirely in your mouth.”

She blushed.  “Maybe I do.”

“My God, woman.”  He kissed her again, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with clear intent and lowering his body fully over hers to press his arousal against her.  “Do you feel what you do to me?”

She rolled herself against him.  “Take them off.  Show me.”

“Fuck, Marinette…”  He dropped his head to her shoulder, breathing hard.  “If we’re going to stop, we need to do it now.  Please.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.  “I don’t want to stop, Adrien.  Let me love you.”

A shudder tore through him at her words.  “You’re sure?”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”  She scraped her nails gently up his spine, making him shudder again.  “I want you, Adrien.  I want this.”

“ _Merde_.”  He pushed himself off of her and stood to push his jeans from his hips, his eyes on her body as she lifted her ass to push her leggings down.  She kicked them from her feet and her breasts jiggled enticingly.  “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” she laughed breathlessly.

He stepped to his nightstand and pulled an unopened box of condoms from the drawer, then tossed it onto the bed next to her.

She blushed, and held her arms out to him.  “You were anticipating this?”

“I had hoped—but, no.”  He crawled over her again, his erection bobbing with each movement, and settled between her legs.  “You can thank Nino’s foresight for those.”  She laughed again, but it ended on a gasp when he nudged against her rather intimately.  “What’s so funny?”

“Ah, fuck. A-alya slipped a box into my purse.”

“They’ve been trying to bring this about for a while, huh?”  He chuckled, lowering his mouth to her neck and slipping one hand down between her legs.  “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“ _Ah_!  You have no— _guh_!—idea.”

He pulled back to peer at her face.  “How long have you wanted this?  With me?”

“Mmm.”  She squirmed against his fingers, seeking more, and he obligingly resumed his rhythm.  “ _Ngh_ , probably for about as long as Chat Noir has wanted this with—with Ladybug.”      

His eyes widened.  “I had no idea.”

“I know.”  She squirmed again, clutching at his shoulders, gasping.  “Don’t stop.”

He growled and shifted down her body, placing his lips over her clit as his fingers continued to work inside her.  She arched off of the bed with a cry that he felt sure they heard in the next bedroom, if they were still awake.

“Ah, _Dieu_ , Adrien.  I’m already so close…”

He growled again, loving the sound of his name on her lips when she was like this, on the cusp of release.  The fingers of one hand curled into his hair, the other she pressed against her mouth as she arched up again, her inner muscles clenching around him as she came.  He slowed but didn’t stop until she relaxed bonelessly into the mattress.

He pulled his fingers from her in a long, slow stroke that made her shudder, then popped them into his mouth.

“You—you like the taste?”  She panted, curious.

“I do.  Do you?”

She blushed, and pushed herself up to sit with her back against the headboard.  “I uh, I have no idea.”

He wiped his hand on his discarded shirt, and leaned over her.  “Do you want to find out?” He whispered.

She nodded, wide-eyed, and he lowered his mouth to kiss her slowly, languorously.  After several long moments, he broke the kiss, and looked at her expectantly.  “Well?”

“I think…I think that I could get used to it.”

He smirked, and picked up the box that he’d tossed to the bed.  “Me, too.”  When he had it opened, she held her hand out to him, palm up. 

“May I?” She asked, blushing again.

He placed one in her hand, and tossed the box to the night stand.  Then he rose up on his knees in front of her.  “Be my guest.”

She trembled a bit as she opened it, he noticed.  She trembled a bit more as she rolled it over his length, but she did it without any trouble, even when he jumped at her touch.

He felt an unaccountable flare of jealousy. “You’ve done that before, I take it?”

Her blush deepened.  “Once.” 

He tamped down the jealousy.  She wasn’t his first, either, and even if she were it wouldn’t matter. He leaned down and kissed her again, just as languorously as before.

“Mmm.  I love kissing you,” she murmured against his mouth.

“You know we don’t have to do anything else, if you don’t want to.”

 She reached a tentative hand forward and gripped him, running her thumb over the underside of the head, and he shuddered.  “I do want to.  Unless you don’t?”

“Mmpf, I do.  You have no idea how much I do.”

She pulled his mouth back to hers with a hand at the back of his neck, and squeezed him gently once more before releasing him to encourage him to lie down next to her.  She slid down with him, hooking a leg over his and drawing their bodies flush together.  His cock brushed against her warm heat and he gasped, bucking against her.  He was almost painfully aroused by this point, and every sensation heightened.

“I want to be inside you, Marinette.”

“Ngh, _yes_.”  She rolled her body against him, dragging her moist heat over his ridge.  Then she used the leg hooked over his to roll them, pinning herself beneath him.  “I want you, _please_.”

He raised himself up on one hand, and reached between them to position himself at her opening, sliding in only a little.  Apparently, that wasn’t enough for her, because she hooked her legs around his thighs and pulled herself down, impaling herself fully on his cock.  “Fuck, Marinette!”

“Move, Adrien!”  She rolled her body again, and he began to move within her, supporting himself on his elbows.  “Ah, Dieu!  That— _yes_.” 

She moved with him, their bodies coming together in a way that was not elegant or graceful, but that was raw and primal.  There were no more words, only inarticulate gasps and sobs and moans.  She wrapped her arms around him, the nails of one hand scraping up the planes of his back while the other fisted in his hair, pulling him down to kiss her.  He broke it to gasp for breath. 

“Adrien, I— _ah_!”

He felt her begin to spasm, and he reached between them rub his thumb over her clit.  It was enough to push her over entirely, and he kissed her again, swallowing her cries as she climaxed around him. 

“ _Merde_ , Marinette.”  He slowed through her aftershocks, both to allow her to recover and to stave off his own release.  He wanted this to last forever, but he knew he couldn’t hold it off much longer.  He slowed further, but Marinette chose that moment to start moving against him again, and that was all it took.  His orgasm swept through him, and she wrapped herself around him, stroking his back and pressing kisses to his mouth and cooing sweet nothings to him as he shook with it.

Long, blissful moments later he collapsed against her, pressing her body into the bed with the weight of his.  She sighed happily, still stroking her hands over his sweat-slick skin.  He didn’t allow himself to stay there long, knowing that his weight must be crushing her.  But, when he pushed up to his elbows, she tensed her arms to hold him in place. 

“Stay.  I—I like this.”

He relaxed over her again, nuzzling her neck.  “I like this, too.”

“Adrien?”

He paused in his nuzzling and traced her earlobe with the tip of his nose. “Hmm?”

“I love you,” she whispered.

He dropped his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder, and breathed deeply, trying to print this moment indelibly in his mind.  “I love you, too,” he whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> You should know that I find comments inspirational and motivational. Just sayin'.
> 
> Shameless, I know. ;)


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